Music Therapy
by Rosepoison
Summary: Gokudera is having the MOTHER of all bad days. He's almost late for school, been stabbed, framed, and even mananged to slip on a banana peel. Did I mention his rent (which he doen't have) is due in a couple days? Well it is. But Hayato has a way of coping . . .


**I don't own KHR or any of its characters, yada, yada, yada . . .**

**. . .**

Gokudera growls to himself for the fifth time in ten minutes, continuing to glare at everything that moves.

Now, we have to take into account that for the Storm Guardian, this isn't exactly unusual behavior. Gokudera Hayato is extremely anti-social, and if he was ever kicked out of the mafia (fat chance, nowadays), would be out on his rear, jobless.

Then, of course, there's the fact he smokes like a chimney. Okay, so he _technically _has a method to his madness (aside from wanting to contract lung cancer by the time he's thirty), but don't copy him, kiddies.

Ahem, back to bakader-ah-GOKUdera.

Things had otherwise gone from bad to worse today. He'd woken up, and discovered he was late for school. Not to mention missed walking the Tenth there by a mile.

Hayato'd scrambled to put on his clothes, completely forgot about lunch, and managed to make it _just _in time. Some years ago, the Storm Guardian would have just shrugged his shoulders and skipped. (What? He had grades good enough to make Albert Einstein envious. But Juudaime needed help, and any right-hand worth the name would have been right beside him.)

Of course, Gokudera's "lucky" streak didn't end there, either. In short:

1. The Baseball Idiot and the Tenth insisted on sharing their lunches when they realized Gokudera forgot his (single most embarrassing experience in Hayato's life.)

2. Bianchi showed up at school, knocking the Storm Guardian on his back for half the day.

3. He accidentally stumbled into mob territory on his way home.

4. Some half-blind ol' fogy called him a (direct quote) "pretty young lady".

5. The COW was around to hear about the aforementioned incident (and then blab it to Haru.)

6. A mugger stabbed him while trying to steal a purse.

7. And when the Police finally caught up with them, _Gokudera_ was blamed!

Honestly? Hayato's having a lousy day to end all lousy days.

The teen mutters some choice words, and puts his hand to his ribs. At least they'd patched him up at the station as an apology. They'd also wanted to call the paramedics, but the Vongola refused. Mafia = no hospitals, end of story. He'd given them a bogus answer about his mother being a nurse, and stalked out the door. Admittedly staggered a little, but stalked out the door none the less.

_Tch. That baka had good aim, must have nicked an intestine . . ._

Gokudera sighs, he's almost home, and what else could happen to him that hasn't already? Him slipping on a banana?

. . .

Someone up there either has a very bad sense of humor or his guardian angel was lashing back at him for all the stunts he's pulled.

Gokudera supposes there's only thing to do on a day like today, and it ain't homework.

. . . 

The Mafia dumps his stuff in the corner, and for once, lets himself smile.

The owner of his apartment owns a piano, and all but gave it to Hayato in her will. She caught him one day when he was feeling REALLY awful—like today—and said it would be "happier" with him playing it. Considering the layer of dust it had collected back then, the teen suspected there was something connected to the instrument he shouldn't pry into.

Now that he thinks of it, ever since that incident, Hayato's had a lot easier time paying the rent . . . Hn . . . maybe property values went down, this is kind of a shoddy neighborhood after all. . .

Gokudera sits gingerly on the piano seat, wary of his new wound. He limbers up his fingers, playing a song he nearly killed himself over in his younger years:

Chopsticks.

The white-haired boy laughs to himself. Honestly, he was told to practice that number so much in his early days it became a little jingle in his head, nearly driving the boy insane.

Gokudera soon stops pussy-footing around, though. He releases the day's stress through his fingers, happy to see they haven't gotten rusty.

. . .

While off in his own little world of crazy concertos and high-speed symphonies, Hayato fails to notice the windows have been opened, and most of the neighborhood is staring at him in awe. But the culprit smirks in a dark corner, unnoticed, visibly pleased her tenant is enjoying himself for once.

_Maybe I'll wave you're rent this month, Gokudera-san. A show like this should keep the neighbors talking for quite some time . . ._


End file.
